


Heart on Your Sleeve

by ThanhXuan



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Office AU, Pining, Romance, Tattoos, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 14:07:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16306637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThanhXuan/pseuds/ThanhXuan
Summary: donghae wears his heart on his sleeveall of his emotions out in the open, painted on his skinand hyukjae finds it so very fascinating





	Heart on Your Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday to lee donghae! your smile, your laugh, your everything always makes my heart go boom-boom-boom with feelings for you.
> 
> incredible thanks to em, munia and belinda for spending so much time listening to me blabber about the story and for beta-ing the mess that this fic would probably be without their help. lots of love to you guys

Hyukjae doesn’t know much about Emotion Tattoos besides the fact that they’re very fancy pieces of body art. His sister tried to explain the concept a few years ago, when she’d been thinking about getting her own and had to convince her parents that, yes, it’s a great idea, and no, it doesn’t mean that she’s turned into a delinquent. She explained that Emotions were special tattoos that could reflect their owner’s feelings by changing shapes and moving around on their skin. Unique and constantly evolving, those pieces of art could depict happiness and anger and everything that existed in-between, effortlessly morphing into beautiful images that were loosely based on the original tattoo’s core. They were inked by certified tattoo artists in charge of creating the essence of the Emotion to which it was anchored.

Hyukjae had been skeptical about the idea at first, and within reason. Strange tattoos that could reflect people’s feelings and change shapes on their own? That sounded like a cheap and convoluted marketing scheme stolen from a bad sci-fi book. But then his sister got hers done, and he had to admit that he’d been pleasantly surprised by the result. It was lovely twinkling little stars inked on her right ankle, like a sort of bracelet. They would shine brighter when she was happy, sometimes even sputter stardust and wander around her calf, and would dim down in intensity when she felt down, gathering sadly into a barely moving circle.

Even to this day, years after his sister got her Emotion, Hyukjae can’t help but feel a little impressed. Body art really did make an impressive leap in innovation with those tattoos. He doesn’t fully understand the science, but he knows that some kind of technology is infused into the ink in order to make it possible.

Hyukjae’s never particularly cared much about getting his own Emotion though. They’re pretty and fascinating, there’s no denying it, but he’s never felt more than mild interest for them. It’s a vague thought that he never bothered to think about much more than necessary. He does see Emotions sometimes, peeking over the collar of a random somebody in the subway; running idly over the fingers of a colleague at work. They make him pause in wonder, only for a second, before he goes back to minding his own business.

So, no. Hyukjae doesn’t particularly care much for Emotions. That is, until he meets Donghae.

 

*

 

Hyukjae isn’t quite sure how he should describe Donghae. The only words that come to mind are superlatives, which is mildly embarrassing for everyone involved.

Donghae is a new employee at work. He wears casual clothes and sneakers to the office, uncaring of the odd looks that he gets from the company’s higher-ups. His hair always looks a little disheveled as if he just woke up, and there’s always a mischievous little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Donghae’s such a sharp contrast to the crisp formation of the company’s other employees that Hyukjae can’t help but feel drawn to this strange persona, with his strange hair and dangerous smile. There’s something wild and untamed about Donghae that fascinates him.

They start off as friendly but not quite friends. Maybe they’re getting there though, Hyukjae thinks. Maybe it’s only a matter of time, he dares to hope, as he spends yet another lunchbreak with Donghae; yet another coffee break with Donghae; yet another reunion stealing glances at Donghae. It’s an odd friendship that Hyukjae feels a little confused about. Donghae is always there, somewhere, at the back of his mind, and at first it’s only the vague excitement of making a new friend. But then it morphs into something else, an everchanging sort of feeling that scares and thrills him all at the same time. Hyukjae doesn’t know what it is—but he’s sure that he’ll find out soon enough.

They start by having lunch together every once in a while, then by getting drinks often, and finally by texting almost all of the time. It’s nice, it’s peaceful, and Hyukjae thinks, _this is good_.

 

*

 

And then one day, as the sun shines bright and warm on a typical summer morning, Donghae comes to work with a dark look on his face. His hair is even more disheveled than usual—less like it’s intentional, and more like he ran a hand through it out of frustration too many times. His hands are curled into tight fists by his sides as if he has to hold back from punching the nearest thing in sight and he only grunts short, sharp replies to anyone who dares to approach him.

Hyukjae stays quiet, unsure if they’re friendly enough to ask what’s wrong. Even though he wants to go and comfort him, Donghae looks like he has all of his walls up and no intention to let them down. Maybe he really just wants to be left alone.

All the way across the room, Donghae sighs. He closes his eyes, looking exhausted, and then runs a hand through his hair again.

That’s when Hyukjae sees it—Donghae’s Emotion. It peeks from under the left sleeve of his shirt, dark and keen-edged around his wrist, slowly growing towards the back of his hand. The art is a mess of sharp, scattered lines that look like thin knifes digging painfully into his skin. It looks angry, restless, frustrated—almost like a disease that’s spreading throughout his body.

But it also looks beautiful, and Hyukjae can’t help but stare. For some reason that he can’t explain, he feels a flush color the back of his neck as he admires the dark ink on Donghae’s golden skin. Hyukjae blinks dazedly as he half-wishes that he could look through his shirt to find the tattoo’s core and admire its details.

All he can see though, is the end of Donghae’s Emotion as it continues to develop over the back of his left hand. It looks dangerous, almost painful, and just a little threatening. Donghae’s face is clouded with a similar sort of painful unhappiness as his tattoo, thick eyebrows pulled down into a dark frown.

Hyukjae decides to leave him alone for the time being, and instead brings him a cup of coffee that he leaves on his desk without a word. Donghae looks up at him in surprise and then grins gratefully.

Around his wrist, the sharp, angry lines of his Emotion seem to soften just ever so slightly.

 

*

 

The second time that Hyukjae sees it, it’s raining.

The bright sunshine of the past few days has well and truly vanished; in its place, a long storm works to chase away the residual heat that’s clinging to the concrete and buildings. The sky now looks grey and terribly worn out as fat drops of warm water wash over the busy city. They form long rivulets of rain on windows, like a fleeting painting of thin branches made of water, and blur the scenery that stretches out far into the distance. It’s an odd sight to be admired, inspiring both calmness and weariness even in the most restless mind—some kind of feeling that’s caught in-between two opposites and doesn’t quite have a proper name.

Hyukjae sits at his desk in silence as he stares outside the window distractedly. He feels a little listless, as if he’s been floating through the day, his mind lost somewhere miles away from his work. Just as he toys with the idea of getting an iced chocolate—even though he knows it’ll ruin all his chances of getting anything done—, Donghae wanders to his desk to give him some documents.

 

“Hi,” he says in a soft voice, almost like a secret exchange that doesn’t want to disturb the rhythm of the pouring rain outside. He grins at him, small but warm, and Hyukjae smiles back a shy smile.

 

They watch the rain fall over the city together. It’s quiet, it’s nice, it’s peaceful—and Hyukjae thinks that he wouldn’t mind if it lasted for just a second longer. Then Donghae shifts slightly next to him, releasing a soft sigh that catches his attention.

Hyukjae glances at Donghae distractedly—and almost gasps in wonder.

Beautiful long leaves are sketched across the base of Donghae’s neck. They’re thin and drooping a little, curling idly towards his collarbone beneath his loose shirt. They seem to flutter slightly on his golden skin but only barely, rocked by the whims of the wind that’s blowing outside—or maybe it’s only Hyukjae’s imagination. Each leaf glistens softly as little drops of water hang off its tip, and it’s as if rain has fallen onto Donghae’s skin and gotten imprinted into the tattoo.

It’s beautiful, Hyukjae thinks, entranced. Then, almost as an afterthought, he remembers to look down at Donghae’s hand. He’s not disappointed—it looks amazing.

Long, glistening leaves are drawn across the back of his hand as well. They’ve reached farther than the angry, sharp lines that Hyukjae saw last time. This time they’re almost touching his third knuckles, looking a little melancholic and also a little languid, but also beautiful and soft and so delicate that Hyukjae desperately wants to touch them. He stops himself just in time, looking up to meet Donghae’s eyes instead.

They’re soft and beautiful, too, just like his pretty leaves. They look content and peaceful, but also a little distressed, as if his peace of mind comes with the price of dull pain. But it seems worth it, it has to be, if the way that he avidly drinks in the sight of the rain is of any indication.

Donghae stares and stares and stares for a long while, until he seems to remember that he’s still standing at Hyukjae’s desk. He blinks, looking a little lost and confused, as if he’s unsure if he should go back to work or stay here and keep on admiring the listless rain a little longer. Finally, after much hesitation, he glances one last time outside the windows and then leaves sadly.

And Hyukjae understands, then, that Donghae’s Emotion is bittersweet.

 

*

 

The days slowly melt into September. The sky is a bright blue stained with streaks of white clouds, while the weather remains warm and toasty. Generous sunshine and the sounds of singing cicadas animate the late summer, offering a lovely farewell gift before crisp, cool autumn breezes settle in. Early mornings have indeed started to feel slightly cooler already—or maybe it’s just a tweak of imagination that dreads the cold. Nevertheless, the next season is just around the corner and Hyukjae feels a little sad about it.

Donghae, on the other hand, looks more cheerful than he’s been in a long time. A playful smile tugs at the corners of his thin lips again, promising trouble and mischief, while his eyes shine with zest for life. He jokes and teases and laughs cheerfully with people, and it’s honestly kind of beautiful.

Hyukjae flushes slightly at his own thought. He watches in mild embarrassment directed at himself as Donghae strolls around the office with grace and nonchalance, effortlessly drawing attention like a magnet.  His hands are put away in the pockets of his pants, while his right sleeve has been rolled up to his elbow and reveals a strong forearm. His skin is smooth and looks like liquid gold in the warm sunlight that’s shining through the windows. There’s no Emotion inked there—only tantalizing, flawless skin, like a blank canvas preserved for future art.

Donghae kept his left sleeve pulled down to his wrist. But Hyukjae sees his Emotion anyway, as his eyes are now used to catch the little hints of tattoo ink hiding beneath his cuff. Today, the art gathers into a great yet beautiful mess, and reaches as far as his first knuckles. The details are tiny, lovely little heart-shaped leaves that flutter eagerly along with Donghae’s excitement. Some of them even fall off their thin branches, almost as if they’re being swept off by their enthusiasm.

It’s beautiful and lovely, and Hyukjae finds it oddly endearing. He smiles a little and then hurries to hide it by looking down at his keyboard. Somewhere in the office, Donghae releases a loud, pleased laugh that makes something ache softly within his chest.

Donghae is happy today—and Hyukjae realizes that he will be as well. 

 

*

 

“You’re being unreasonable,” Hyukjae says as he rolls his eyes. He moves along after giving his order to the cafeteria lady, and Donghae follows him closely.

 

“No,” Donghae insists, “I’m really not. It’s perfectly normal, in fact. Who wouldn’t like a nice cup of coffee over some chocolate piss, huh?”

 

Hyukjae accepts his iced chocolate from another cafeteria employee with a thankful smile. “Well,” he then says to Donghae as he raises his cup, “there’s me, apparently.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re _weird_ ,” Donghae rolls his eyes. Ignoring Hyukjae’s protests, he pays for both their drinks and wait for his own coffee to be prepared. “Coffee is life; life is coffee. It’s a simple equation.”

 

“You’re obviously horrible at math.”

 

Donghae laughs. “Shut up.”

 

He’s about to launch himself into another long monologue on why coffee should win over chocolate any day, when someone behind him accidentally bumps into his back. He stumbles, thrown off his balance, and almost drops his coffee all over his white shirt. Hyukjae reaches out to steady him by his left arm. Donghae stiffens slightly at his touch, eyes wide and confused as they find themselves staring at each other.

Almost instinctively, Hyukjae glances down at Donghae’s wrist. Sure enough, soft, smooth lines are running idly across his tanned skin. They seem to freeze under his curious eyes, much like Donghae did a second ago. Then all of a sudden, they blur and shift and curl, and their shapes start to _change_.

Hyukjae watches, fascinated, breathless, as the art evolves right in front of his eyes. Thin, knotted branches spread across his hand and all the way to the tip of Donghae’s fingers. They curl and settle lazily, taking their time to find a comfortable spot. Little flower buds then start to grow along their extremities. Hyukjae’s eyes widen in admiration, entranced and amazed, as some of the buds seem about to bloom. He opens his mouth to ask—about the art and the beauty; the magic; wants to know about his Emotion, when—

—when whoever bumped into Donghae starts to apologize profusely. Flustered, Donghae turns around to tell them, _oh no, don’t worry, it’s okay!_

And the magic is broken.

 

*

 

Hyukjae doesn’t like to have his feelings out in the open. He likes to keep them to himself, nestled up somewhere close to his heart and behind his smile, where they’re easier to hide—he wants to keep them away from the curious eyes of anonymous crowds, and unlock them only to those that he knows truly care about him. But even to his closest friends and his own family members, Hyukjae feels quite reluctant to talk about his feelings. He’s never been very good at opening up in general, a flaw of his that a lot of people reproach him for. His tendency to bottle up his feelings is one of the reasons why he feels hesitant about getting an Emotion. Sometimes, however, as frustration and unhappiness build up painfully inside him and he doesn’t find the courage to open up to someone, he thinks that maybe it’d be easier if he didn’t have to worry about talking, and only had to show.

Donghae, on the other hand, wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s so very full of warmth and openness and love, that it somehow just makes sense that he’d have an Emotion. On the golden canvas that is his skin, the beautiful, complex tattoo is inked such as an everchanging painting of his feelings.

Hyukjae hasn’t seen it in full yet, but he already knows that it’s beautiful. He wonders, sometimes, as he daydreams and catches himself thinking about Donghae and his Emotion, where the tattoo’s core is—is it on his inner wrist, tiny in its essence but free to grow as it pleases? Somewhere on his forearm? Above his elbow, on the curve of his strong muscle?

Hyukjae desperately wants to know, wants to ask so many questions—but he also knows that Emotions are something precious and a little secret. They might be all out in the open, but they’re also something incredibly intimate and cherished. Most people don’t ask about them unless their owners breach the topic first.

So Hyukjae doesn’t ask. Instead, he only watches; admires; gazes in fascination as Donghae’s emotion moves and flutters listlessly across his skin.

 

*

 

Hyukjae used to date a girl who had an Emotion. It was elegantly inked on her ribcage, just below her left breast, where it snuggled softly along its delicate curve. The original art depicted a strong but lean panther, with dark, intense eyes and sharp teeth. It looked just as pretty as it also inspired a sense of danger, like a silent warning not to mess with her. Just like Donghae’s, her Emotion would change shapes along with her feelings. It would be a cat, slow and sensuous, when she was feeling seductive; a purring feline when she felt excitable and happy; a roaring tigress when she was angry.

Very few people had the opportunity to catch even a glimpse of her Emotion as it was most of the time hidden by her clothes. Hyukjae had been lucky enough to see it regularly, even touch it. He thought it was pretty and intriguing, but his appreciation for her tattoo never went beyond mild interest and a curious urge to run his fingers along the length of her panther from time to time. There wasn’t any desperate hunger rumbling in his stomach to find out every shape that it could take; how far it could stretch over her skin; how it would react to his touch.

But with Donghae, it’s all so different. And that’s rather paradoxical, isn’t it, that he’s so captivated about his Emotion when he didn’t care so much before. Because now, as they talk and laugh and work together almost every single day, Hyukjae always _wonders_. He wants to know if it’s big or small, and how far it’s inked across his skin today, if it’s leaves or flowers or just lines of black ink. He wants to know if Donghae is happy or sad, and the reason why; if maybe Hyukjae can cheer him up.

Hyukjae is fascinated—maybe even a little bit obsessed. He just doesn’t know if it’s with Donghae or with his Emotion.

Or maybe both.

 

*

 

Donghae has fallen asleep on his desk.

It’s late at night, almost nine o’clock already, and only a handful of people remain in the office. Hyukjae is rather dismayed to find himself included in their numbers, as he had to sort out a couple of urgent files. He sighs miserably as he turns off his laptop, dearly hoping that this won’t become a regular occurrence because he feels terrible. His head and his back, and basically his everything just _hurts_. All he wants at the moment is to go home, take a nice, hot bath, and then head straight to bed.

It’s when Hyukjae is about to head for the elevator that he sees Donghae, head resting on his crossed arms. He’s sleeping peacefully, his face buried into the crook of his folded elbow as his hair falls messily across his forehead. Little snores are rumbling out lowly from his nose and are muffled by his shirt.

Hyukjae smiles as he gets nearer. He shakes his head, half in fondness but also half in exasperation, because it’s already the third time this week only. Gently, he reaches out to wake Donghae.

He stops, though, when he sees dark ink sketched beautifully across Donghae’s neck. It’s moving slow and listless, in soft lines that he desperately wants to touch. Instead he only watches, beyond fascinated. One second, the art is curly and thin, like vines crawling up the walls of an old, picturesque home; then the next, it’s sharp and jagged. Suddenly it becomes odd, abstract shapes that he wouldn’t know how to describe, and sometimes it blooms into branches and leaves and flowers.

There’s no theme to the Emotion’s art like there usually is, and Hyukjae slowly realizes that it’s reflecting Donghae’s dream. It’s growing and growing and growing, all the way up to his jawline and starting timidly onto his cheek. Even if he can’t see it, Hyukjae somehow knows that his hands are also covered in the black ink and abstract art. He wonders if it would cover his whole body at some point.

It’s beautiful; Donghae is beautiful.

Hyukjae reaches a finger out hesitantly. He’s not quite sure if he wants to touch the Emotion or his skin, or maybe both—but he’s so close, and he wonders if he should just brush his fingertip over a small spot of art or run his whole hand across Donghae’s neck, and—

—and Donghae groans softly, waking up.

Hyukjae startles and jerks his hand back. Before his eyes, the tattoo retracts idly, as slow as the way that Donghae opens his eyes and yawns into his arms.

 

*

 

It’s a surprisingly hot day of early autumn, and probably the last one of the year.

At his desk, Hyukjae closes his eyes and happily bathes in the bright sunlight that’s shining through the open windows. He sighs in contentment when a soft breeze brushes past him. His skin feels warm and just a little tingly as the sun paints it in a summery gold, and he’s loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves up to his elbow in an effort to enjoy it as much as possible. He stretches his arms above his head as he idly contemplates taking an early afternoon break. It wouldn’t be a particularly wise decision, he knows, since it’s already half past two and he hasn’t done anything remotely productive ever since he came into the office. A dozen files are still waiting for his attention, but he only sends them a disinterested glance. Instead, he looks outside the window and admires the blue sky.

Maybe he really should go and get a nice iced chocolate.

Donghae then comes back from his lunchbreak, just as Hyukjae seriously considers sneaking to the cafeteria. He glances at him distractedly, feeling a little sluggish from his comfortable sunbathing—and then does double-takes with wide eyes. _Oh!_ he exclaims with a soundless gasp.

For the first time since he’s met him, Donghae is wearing short sleeves. His arms are made of smooth skin stretched over strong muscles, and Hyukjae can’t help but trace their curves with his eyes; the way they shift attractively every time that Donghae moves, the way that they exult silent strength and power. And on his left arm, like a teasing fantasy that won’t stay still for long enough to remember, his Emotion is visible in all its glory.  

It’s gorgeous—even more so than everything that Hyukjae could ever have imagined. It covers his whole arm and more, from the tip of his fingers and all the way up to his jawline, on his neck and his collarbone, and starting experimentally onto his cheek—like that time when he’d been sleeping, except— _more_.

The dark ink creates a complex piece of art that’s made of branches, and leaves, and tiny flowers, and odd abstract lines and shapes. They all seem to come together into a complicated sort of tangle that emerges from a nook somewhere in the middle of his inner forearm, growing across his skin like a wild, beautiful plant. The leaves are fluttering indolently, rocked by the whims of the soft wind outside; the lines are taking sharp turns—right, then left, and then right again; the flowers are blooming, slow and careful. Today they’re small sunflowers that are turned towards the windows, as if they want to soak up the sunlight before winter steals all of it.

It’s one of the most endearing sights that Hyukjae has ever seen. He wishes that he could walk across the office to hold Donghae’s left hand and trace the curves of his Emotion with his fingertips. A part of him wonders how the black ink would react under his touch, and another longs to know whether Donghae would reject or welcome him.

Lost as he is in his own thoughts, Hyukjae doesn’t notice when Donghae approaches him.

 

“Hi, Hyukjae,” Donghae says and gives him such a lovely smile that for a moment, Hyukjae forgets about everything else. He leaves a cup on his desk. “I got this for you at the cafeteria,” Donghae says with a shy, adorable bite of his lips. On his arm, the sunflowers are moving away from the sun and turn slowly towards Hyukjae. Donghae continues, “see you tonight for the drinks, alright?”

 

Giving him a hopeful look, he then heads back to his own desk.

Hyukjae looks down at the drink; it’s an iced chocolate. He blushes furiously. Something inside his chest blooms just like Donghae’s pretty flowers and aches in desperate longing. And he thinks, just for a second and then all the next, that he might be in love.

 

*

 

Hyukjae spends the rest of the day in a daze, his mind full of shy looks and sunflowers, until suddenly it’s the evening and the whole company gathers for after-work drinks. Countless people meet up in the biggest conference hall of the buildings, where beverages and finger food have been provided. Everybody starts to talk and laugh together as they leave their responsibilities behind for just a short moment. Hyukjae tries his best to blend amongst his colleagues. It doesn’t come easily or naturally to him, all these social events, but after a few minutes he can almost pretend that he’s not so awkward. He talks with so many people that at some point he doesn’t even notice their faces anymore; only the dull headache that’s building in his temples. Hours go by slowly, almost too slow, and soon he feels too stuffed and overwhelmed by the crowd and the noise.

Hyukjae steps out of the building when it finally gets too much. He goes to sit down on a step outside, sighing, and looks up at the dark sky. A half-moon shines brightly amongst countless twinkling stars, reminding him briefly of his sister’s Emotion. It’s a pleasant sight—but also reminds him that it’s getting pretty late.

Suddenly Hyukjae feels exhausted and longs for his bed. Just as he’s about to stand up and take his leave, a warm hand rests on his shoulder. He looks up in surprise and almost startles when he meets Donghae’s eyes.

 

“Hey,” Donghae smiles down at him. “Taking a break?”

 

Shrugging, Hyukjae watches Donghae settle down next to him. “I needed some fresh air,” he says. And then, before he can stop himself, “you’re wearing short sleeves today. You never wore short sleeves before.” He sounds a little accusing, prompting him to look down in mortification.

 

Donghae doesn’t seem to mind. He barks a laugh, and then leans back on his arms to stare up at the sky. “Yeah,” he hums. “I guess I felt safe enough with you guys to show this off.” He jerks his head in his left arm’s direction. “Sometimes it can get a bit hard.”

 

Hyukjae remembers his parents’ reluctance about his sister’s Emotion and how long it took her to get their approval. “I see.”

 

A comfortable silence falls over them like a weightless feather. Only the sounds of distant laughter and rustled leaves reach their ears, like soft music playing in the background. They sit together for what feels like a couple of seconds, or maybe several hours. Donghae straightens up again until his left shoulder brushes lightly against Hyukjae’s. His presence next to him is nice and warm, such as the familiar embrace of an old lover, and his woody perfume tickles his senses teasingly and makes him feel a little dizzy.

It’s almost too overwhelming for Hyukjae. He doesn’t know where to put himself, between his bashfulness and his urge to move just that much closer to Donghae. Every time that their shoulders touch, even if it’s just barely, his heart seems to beat faster and faster, almost about to burst out of his chest and into Donghae’s open hands.  

So instead—instead of letting his feelings go wild—, Hyukjae looks down at Donghae’s Emotion to distract himself. Tonight, the art shows tiny little flower buds scattered over knotted, leaved branches. They seem to bloom in languid waves, opening up on one end while they closed slowly on the other. Hyukjae watches the dark ink shift across Donghae’s skin, as his own heartbeat settles to a more even pace.

Donghae then moves his arm slightly, and the lines of his tattoo seem to glow in the moonlight, but only for a second—like the fleeting memory of a dream before it disappears; like he’s teasing on purpose and is waiting for a reaction. And Hyukjae can’t help himself—he reaches out.

Before he realizes it, Hyukjae is touching Donghae’s Emotion. He hears a gasp that sends a shiver up his spine as he admires Donghae’s flowers and leaves. They seem to flutter for a breath, and then start to change shapes once again.

And oh, Hyukjae thinks as he widens his eyes— _oh!_

The art shifts into cherry blossoms, soft petals that darken slightly towards the flower’s stem, and gather right under Hyukjae’s fingertips. He widens his eyes as he feels his heartbeat pick up again. Fascinated, he presses another finger onto Donghae’s skin, and _oh!_ Little flowers bloom under his touch, as if summoned by the warmth of his own skin. Hyukjae then tentatively flattens his whole palm onto Donghae’s inner arm; he watches the art respond to his presence in wonder and unconsciously strokes his thumb across one of his veins.

Hyukjae doesn’t dare to think what it means. He just _can’t_. Too scared to let any conclusion form in his mind, he stares at his hand resting over Donghae’s arm. His golden skin is a pleasing contrast to his own fair complexion. _We fit_ , he finds himself thinking shyly as he starts to blush.

 

“Hyukjae.” Donghae’s low voice reaches his ears in a murmur.

 

For a moment, Hyukjae doesn’t look up. He runs his hand down Donghae’s arm until he reaches his hand, and the cherry blossoms follow his touch happily, leaving tiny little petals to float in their wake.

 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae repeats as he entwines their fingers together.

 

Their eyes meet, and time stops.

For the slightest second, Donghae glances at Hyukjae’s lips—and he just knows, right there and then, as the moonlight shines softly over them, that they’re about to kiss. He didn’t think that it would be so simple—and yet it is. It’s simple and beautiful, and he can’t wait for their lips to meet into their first kiss. Can’t help but wonder if it’ll be sweet; intense; brief; languorous.

Finally, Donghae leans in. As though attracted like a magnet, Hyukjae moves closer as well, and soon, their breaths blend together. He closes his eyes, feeling Donghae’s warmth come close to him. It seems like the sound of their breaths is the only thing that they can hear, and his heart speeds up frantically in anticipation within his chest, when—

 

“Hyukjae? Donghae? What are you doing outside? Come back in, they’re bringing the cake!”

 

—when the magic is broken once again.

 

*

 

Hyukjae is fascinated with Donghae’s Emotion. The art; the black ink; all the different shapes that it can take; and the way that it stretches beautifully across the canvas that is his body—it consumes Hyukjae with endless wonder. He has so many questions to ask, and while some of them found replies, the rest remains unanswered.

But Hyukjae then gets to know Donghae as who he really is—and there’s no need for answers anymore. He learns what it is to be his colleague; then a friend; and finally his best friend. Maybe even something more, he dares to hope in the quietness of his own mind.

Hyukjae starts by seeing Donghae’s Emotion, and it’s beautiful, yes; but he soon realizes that it’s only a gateway to seeing who he really is. He is kind and lovely, full of mischievousness and charms and a rough sort of softness. The sounds of his laugh give the tempo to his happiness, while upward twitches of his lips are a warning of an imminent act of mischievousness. His eyes give away his sadness, even when he tries his best to hide it.

To Hyukjae, it’s all those little things that make Donghae so lovely. He already unveils such intense beauty all on his own, that his tattoo only serves to complement what has been there all along.

Hyukjae is fascinated with Donghae’s Emotion.

But it is with Donghae, and not his tattoo, that he is consumed with endless love.

 

*

 

Donghae’s birthday falls on a nice Monday of October.

For the occasion, a party is held at his apartment, where his family and some of his closest friends meet up to celebrate. Hyukjae is thrilled to have been invited as well, when he and Donghae had been taking a quiet coffee break in the gardens of the company, with the sweet tension of their almost-kiss hanging in the air like the smell of early spring. He accepted immediately, of course, and thanked Donghae with a shy smile that made them blush both.

The party is a smaller affair than the huge company get-together that had made him feel so stuffed and uncomfortable. Instead, it’s much more comfortable and friendlier, less burdened with the risk of ruining his whole career by talking too informally to the wrong person. Even though it doesn’t come to him easily or naturally most of the time, tonight Hyukjae enjoys himself amongst these people that he’s meeting for the first time.

Nevertheless, Hyukjae’s eyes always find a way back to Donghae. He catches glimpses of him as he tends to his guests, laughing and chatting happily with this great family that he created for himself. All of the affection and attention that he receives from them makes him blush a beautiful pink, while his Emotion thrives in pleasure across his skin. A frenzy of tiny, cute little buttercups is travelling excitedly across his bare arm. The dark ink first draws sinuous vines that curl cheerfully into random directions on Donghae’s skin, before the little buds bloom into beautiful golden flowers that open petal by petal. This time when Hyukjae glances at them, they vanish under the sleeve of his t-shirt and soon reappear on his collarbone, inching cheerfully towards his neck. They start to flutter around the lower side of his jawline as though stroking him lovingly.

Hyukjae finds himself grinning, charmed beyond words by the little flowers of cheerfulness.

 

Soon, the evening fades into nighttime. As a few people start to talk about rearranging the living-room and get the birthday cake, Hyukjae goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Donghae is here talking with one of his friends, leaning a hip against a table and with his arms folded over his chest. Hyukjae waves at them and is about to go back to the living-room to help, when Donghae calls him over.

 

“Hyukjae!” he smiles brightly as he grabs Hyukjae’s wrist and pulls him closer. “Here, let me introduce you; this is my friend from university, Siwon. Siwon, this is Hyukjae.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Hyukjae,” Siwon greets him with a dimpled grin. “Donghae told me a lot about you.”

 

“Oh,” Hyukjae blinks rapidly, surprised. A pleased blush warms his face, and next to him, he sees that a soft pink has started to color Donghae’s cheeks as well. His eyes are gazing at him with such earnestness that Hyukjae has to look away, afraid that he’d drown in their depth while in Siwon’s presence. “I—…” He bites onto his lower lip. “Nice to meet you too.”

 

Even though he’s talking to someone else, Hyukjae only has eyes for Donghae. On his skin, his Emotion is changing into shy peonies, which then converge bashfully towards where his hand is wrapped around Hyukjae’s wrist. When he looks up to meet his eyes, hoping but not quite daring so, Donghae grins and squeezes gently.

 

Siwon looks between the two of them in poorly concealed curiosity. He seems amused, a sly smirk that goes unnoticed tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll just, uh—” Without another ward, he heads back to the living-room.

 

“Sorry,” Hyukjae says when they’re along in the kitchen. Donghae’s skin is so very warm on his own, and it’s hard to focus. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

 

“It’s alright,” Donghae shrugs. He looks down at their hands and smiles softly, while Hyukjae keeps thinking, _so very warm._

“Look,” Donghae whispers as he shows the way that his fingers are wrapped around Hyukjae. Instead of the peonies, familiar cherry blossoms have now started to grow on his skin, circling around his wrist like a bed of soft, lovely flowers. “Look,” he says again. “They like you.”

 

Hyukjae blushes again. He reaches out tremblingly and brushes his knuckles down the inside of Donghae’s forearm. Sure enough, the little flowers bloom slowly under his touch—just like last time.

“Do they,” he mumbles. He continues to run his fingertips over Donghae’s golden skin, travelling further and further up his arm, from the crook of his elbow to his shoulder. “Do you?”

 

Donghae squeezes his wrist once again in response. Then he entwines their fingers together, watching in silence as Hyukjae continues his exploration. “I think I might.”

 

Hyukjae strokes his thumb along the length of Donghae’s neck and shivers when he feels him swallow. The blossoms follow the path that he traces with his fingertips, blooming indolently under his touch, as though they want to take their time and enjoy the warmth of his skin. They leave tiny petals to float in their wake, which then disappear in a mist of black ink. It’s a familiar sight that is being created on Donghae’s body, reminding the both of them of first touches and almost-kisses—but it also feels different, especially in the way that they know something is about to happen, something incredible and beautiful, and they won’t let this occasion slip away once again. Hyukjae then runs his fingers up to Donghae’s jaw and cups his cheek. The cherry blossoms bloom on his face as well, surrounding his hand like a beautiful piece of artwork that Hyukjae wishes to keep to himself selfishly.

The blossoms are inked on Donghae’s golden skin such as a sinuous path created by Hyukjae, from where they held hands and all the way up to his face. Some flowers continue to stretch towards his temples while some others settle snuggly near his mouth and on his cheekbones.

Then their gazes meet, and Hyukjae drowns in the depth of Donghae’s eyes. Even though the flowers grow bigger and bigger under his hand, he forgets about the Emotion and about all the rest. He only knows about the way that Donghae stares at him, so intense and full of desire; only knows about the way that his heart aches and twists in similar longing.

 

“Hi,” Donghae mumbles, smiling crookedly. He rests his own hand over Hyukjae’s. Hunger is shining in his eyes, the sort that makes Hyukjae shiver from head to toe in a desperate need to reciprocate it.

 

“Hey,” Hyukjae replies just as softly. He can feel Donghae’s warm breath on his skin and it makes him feel dizzy with raw want.

 

Time seems to pause around them, in an odd replay of last time. It feels both familiar and foreign, and Hyukjae feels like he both knows and doesn’t know what to expect. For once, Donghae’s Emotion stays completely still on his skin; the art is a static picture of dark ink and cherry blossoms, as though he’s feeling exactly the same as Hyukjae. As though he hopes, too, but doesn’t quite dare so.

The anticipation-uncertainty that he finds in Donghae’s eyes gives Hyukjae just that much courage shift just a little closer. He leans in, tentatively, longingly, and then—

 

—then, finally, their lips meet into a soft, careful kiss.

 

Someone gasps in the quietness of their intimacy, and maybe it comes from one of them, or both. But Hyukjae can’t bring himself to care as he melts into Donghae’s warmth. His lips are soft against his own, a lovely touch as soft as a feather, tasting like thousands of different flowers. Hyukjae releases a breathy sigh, his heart aching for _more more more._ Donghae rests a hand on the small of his back, pulling him closer. Hyukjae presses himself against his chest with a soft gasp of wonder. It’s so very warm, so very lovely—everything that he could ever ask for, everything that he wants for the rest of his life. _Donghae_ , he thinks he whispers desperately, and Donghae groans hoarsely as he kisses him harder. _Donghae_. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, into Donghae’s open hands, right where he now knows it belongs. Their tongue slide against each other, languorous, full of desire that makes Hyukjae weak in the knees. He holds onto Donghae’s shoulder in an attempt to stay upright, but it seems pointless as he’s already falling—falling so hard, so fast, so good.

 

“Hyukjae,” Donghae whispers into their kiss.

 

Hyukjae shivers in pleasure. He presses himself closer, catching Donghae’s lips into another lip-lock. “Yes.”

 

Their hearts are falling, falling _._

 

On Donghae’s skin, thousands of roses are blooming at the same rhythm that their love does.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed this story as much as i loved writing it! it was such a great feeling to get back into writing, and i really hope that this is the starting point of my comeback in writing, hehehe! as i said in the foreword, i have several works in progress that i hope to post/update soon, so please look forward.
> 
> as for the story, the idea came to me because i was thinking about draco malfoy and how he'd probably want to hide his death mark. i was thinking he would want something pretty without fully hiding it. and then i was thinking, since the death mark is so full of dark magic, the tattoo would probably feed on it and move around. and then, i thought, hey! what about taking this au idea and making it a donghae's birthday fic!! so yes, here it is hehehe, i really hope you enjoyed, omg, it really means a lot since i had so much fun writing it hehehe.
> 
> the flowers that i described in the story have meanings. i'm not an expert so i just looked it up on the internet so i have no idea how accurate it is, but basically:
> 
> * cherry blossoms: love
> 
> * buttercups: cheerfulness
> 
> * peonies: bashfulness, shyness
> 
> * roses: love
> 
> * sunflowers: sun (i didn't chose those for their meanings, but more for the fact that i know they turn towards the sun)
> 
>  
> 
> i really hope that you enjoyed it and i'd really love to get your comments and feedback. please remember to comment, subscribe and leave kudos pls! it really means a lot to me, especially since it's been a while since i wrote and i really want to know what you think! i love you all!


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